CHAPTER XXVI
MARK'S SICKNESS
A few days later Mark was working hard at the bottom of a deep hole, with the hot sun blazing down upon him when he suddenly felt queer in his head. He staggered and leaned up against the dirt.
"What's the matter, Mark?" questioned Si, who was working with him at the time.
"I—I don't feel right—my—my head is swimming around," gasped Mark.
He had been affected by the strong sunshine, and Si called for help without delay. Bob came running up, and he and the former farm lad carried their sick chum away from the hole and up to the tent on the hillside. Then Maybe Dixon appeared.
"Soak his head in the coldest water you can find," said the old miner, and Bob ran off with a pail to a spring coming from some rocks behind the camp. When the water was brought they saturated towel after towel and put it on Mark's head. They also fanned him and opened the tent front and back, that the breeze might blow through.
"I am afraid he will be a sick boy for some time," said Maybe Dixon. "Maybe it will take all summer for him to git over it."
"Oh, don't say that!" cried Bob, deeply distressed. The idea of any of the party having a serious spell of sickness had never before occurred to him. "Can't we get a doctor somewhere?"
"I heard there was a doctor over to the settlement," said Si. "Jerry Bangs got some pills from him."